


A New Hope

by Lisapahud



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisapahud/pseuds/Lisapahud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POST-SEINE AU: When Javert learns just why Valjean has decided it was better to get away from his daughter instead of telling her the truth, he knows he has to make things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in answer to the following prompt at the kinkmeme (Round 3, page 10):
> 
> J/VJ, AU where Javert doesn't commit suicide, and Marius and Cosette find Valjean in time to save him.  
> Valjean and Javert were growing emotionally intimate/courting each other in M-sur-M. But when the Champmathieu trial happened, Valjean confessed his identity to Javert - and Javert did not take it well. (Something along the lines of thinking it was all a lie, arresting Valjean, saying he hates him - lots of angst all around).  
> The reason Valjean was so determined to hide his past from Cosette is that he was sure she would stop loving him if he told her - like (he thinks) Javert did. Hence his leaving after the wedding and nearly dying of a broken heart.  
> After Javert realizes Valjean is a good person, he finds out about all this. Lots of guilty feelings ensue, and Javert tries to make amends and help Cosette comfort/reassure Valjean.
> 
> I'll admit, it got a little bit away from me and it's not exactly what was asked (I messed up the timeline a bit and it focuses more on Javert's guilty feelings than Valjean but I hope it still fits.
> 
> There may be elements both from the book and the 2012 movie.
> 
> As always, all recognizable content is the property of their creators and I own absolutely nothing.

**A NEW HOPE**

The rebellion had been quenched and, while Javert knew it was not the end, that what only a handful of people in Paris had begun that night would have repercussion for times to come, that other barricades would rise in the future, it was over for now.

Most of the rebels had been arrested during the night. A good share of them had simply surrendered once they had been overrun, realizing that there would be no help from the people and that doing anything else would mean a certain death. The schoolboys that had composed the barricade he had infiltrated hadn’t been part of the numbers. All of them had fought to the bitter hand and were now dead, including the young woman, Thenardier’s daughter, and the little boy who had denounced him – young, so young.

The only one he knew had survived was the boy he had allowed Valjean to rescue, had helped him even. However, since no one bar him knew he had been one of the rebel – he hadn’t been one of the most vocal in the months leading to the revolution – and that the doctor hired by Monsieur Gillenormand had not followed the order to denounce his patients, there was nothing to worry about for him.

The streets were once again safe to walk. It was as if the night had never happened and Javert was once again making sure they stayed that way as he had been able to go back to work, even after the letter he had dared to send to the Prefecture. Thankfully, the fact that he had not only been up all night at the barricade – most of it a prisoner of the rebels – but also gone straight back to work the day after to chase criminals had worked in his favor, his superiors thinking he had just been out of his mind with exhaustion. They had forgiven the remarks and Javert hadn’t said a word to contradict them.

Of course, when he had written that letter, he had never planned to go back to work but, thanks to a certain convict – ex-convict, really, since he had decided he was going to protect his identity instead of denouncing him – his plans for a date with the bottom of the Seine had gone completely awry. Yet, despite the fact he should have been annoyed that Valjean had once again interfered, he could only find himself thankfully about it.

When he had gone to the Pont-au-Change that night, everything had seemed bleak. The world he had known was in shambles and he couldn’t make head or tail out of it anymore and thinking about it had only made his head swim without the shadow of an answer on sight. Jumping, in these conditions, had seemed the only solution left to him at the time.

Going back to Rue de l’Homme Armé with Valjean had seemed a chore. However, the vice-like grip of the man of his forearm – the one that had stopped him from letting go of the parapet – hadn’t seemed about to give and he simply had no strength left to fight that man who, even after having carried a boy through the sewers at his age, still was in possession of more power that the average man. He had been forced to leave the parapet and follow his would-be savior through the streets of Paris.

And the prey had invited the hunter in his house.

To be perfectly honest, he barely had any memories of the rest of that night, simply knowing that Valjean had taken care of him like no one had done before, had offered him food and shelter – shelter from the world as much as from his own demons. He had encouraged him to go to sleep, to rest and, once he had woken up, in a warm bed, and stumbled out of the room to find himself in a kitchen, with both Valjean and his daughter, Cosette, the whore’s child, the one Valjean had escaped for in Montreuil-sur-Mer, he had found that he didn’t want to die anymore.

He had still been lost, had still not been able to make sense of the fact that a convict could be a good man, a saint almost, but he had known he would be able to work it out, that death wasn’t a solution but a surrender and if there had been one thing he had never been able to do, it was to give up. No, he had decided then that he was going to live and finally make sense of that new world, made of grey.

That morning had been the beginning of a new era for him. He had found himself actually appreciating Valjean’s presence, even though the man had been fearful of what his reaction would be – the Inspector wasn’t certain whether he was afraid of Javert arresting him or going back to the Seine. However the uneasiness had dissipated as breakfast advanced. Cosette’s unending chatter, the girl delighted at having an acquaintance of her father in the house for once, had been bearable and he had to admit that Valjean had done well with her. There was nothing in her that would betray her origins.

From that day on, Javert had been a frequent fixture in the house, even more as Cosette began spending more and more time with the boy, Marius, and he found himself the only distraction Valjean had to keep himself entertained. The more the time passed and the more Javert realized that he was the only link Valjean had with the outside world and, with the wedding approaching fast, he seemed to become more and more withdrawn but still refused to talk about it to him.

All of this lead to this moment, this moment where Javert, who entered Valjean’s house after his shift as was his daily ritual, realized that the man had simply not gone to visit his daughter who was staying during the wedding preparation at Rue des Filles du Calvaires, with Marius and his family, Monsieur et Mademoiselle Gillenormand acting as chaperone to make sure nothing untoward happened before the wedding. Javert had known that the visits were becoming shorter but never completely overlooked.

“Why have you not gone to see Cosette?” Javert demanded without wasting a single second because these visits where the only thing that still put a true smile on Valjean’s face and he was becoming more and more anxious to see happiness soften these features.

Oh, he had no doubt that Valjean was… content to be in his company. Javert didn’t need constant reassurances about his place in the man’s life – he knew he was welcomes and it was more than he could have dreamed of considering their past – but Valjean made sure to tell him often enough how glad he was for his presence, for his friendship.

“I finally talked to Marius this afternoon,” Valjean said, apparently not caring he was doing a non-sequitur instead of answering the question. “I’ve told him the truth of my past and asked him to tell Cosette I’ve gone on a journey far away. It is better I leave her life now.”

“Are you daft?” Javert exclaimed with his usual tact. “How is better for you to abandon your own daughter?!”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Cosette was the sunshine of Valjean’s life. There was no way he could simply walk away from her and if he had actually told Pontmercy everything, then the boy would have told him the same. This meant, of course, that the man had told him all the bad things he had done and overlooked the good. This tendency to play the martyr could be quite exasperating.

“I am a convict. If it is ever known, her reputation will be destroyed. No, I simply cannot risk it.”

“And who will denounce you? No one remember who Jean Valjean is and those who do think him dead. The only ones aware you’re still alive are me and the boy. If he cares about his wife-to-be, he will never say anything.”

“Thenardier knows,” Valjean argued.

“Thenardier will never be believed should he try to tell the authority. And since he’s bound for the noose if he’s ever caught, I very much doubt he’s going to be in any place to ever do so.”

“He could go to her,” Valjean countered. “It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to get to me through her. It would break her heart to learn the truth”

“So tell her before he can,” Javert sighed exasperated. “Just tell her everything and there is nothing Thenardier can do.”

Valjean shook his head and Javert had to do himself violence not to simply grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he saw reason. What the hell was wrong with that man? All he had to do was tell her. He didn’t even have to go into the details of what her mother did, only that he knew her and made her a promise to take care of Cosette.

“Valjean, she’s your daughter. She loves you more than anything. I doubt there is anything you could tell her that would change that. She will be glad to know the truth at least, because I’m sure she has questions. She will still you the same way. How can you not trust your own daughter with that?”

Javert saw a myriad of emotions flitter across Valjean’s face as he talked before he completely closed off. Pain was the most predominant and he was startled to hear the bitter laugh that sounded so unlike the man he knew.

“That was what I told myself ten years ago.”

Javert’s breath caught and he fell silent because what exactly could he say in answer to that?

Ten years ago, Montreuil-sur-Mer, Monsieur Madeleine…. They had been close back then. Yes, everyone in town knew of their frequent disagreements but they had managed to work past them and become friends and… something more, something that had only time to somewhat mature on an emotional level. Who knew where life would have led them if everything hadn’t gone to hell in the space of one conversation.

As they had made a point of telling each other most of what was going on in their life, when words had come from Arras that Valjean had been arrested, Javert had of course told Madeleine – who had been especially curious about his uncharacteristic absent-mindedness that day. Madeleine’s reaction hadn’t been what he had expected to say the last.

Valjean had confessed everything there and then, already the plan to go and stop the trial before it condemned an innocent man forming in his mind. He could have kept pretending, kept the charade going, and his cavalry would have been over, he would have been safe. He chose not to and now, ten years later, when Javert thought about it, he saw in which light these actions showed the man in front him. Back then, though, he hadn’t been so enlightened. His reaction had been nothing short of terrible.

Since that night Valjean had rescued him from the Seine, he had tried not to think too much about their past and Valjean had done the same on his side. They had most certainly never talked about Montreuil. It had been pretty naïve of him to think that, just because they didn’t talk about it, everything was completely forgotten. However, he had allowed himself to believe that and now the reminder of what he had done back then sucker punched him.

“Valjean…,” he began but didn’t know how to finish his sentence.

How could he find the right words to apologize for the mess he had made of Valjean’s life? How could he apologize for destroying his faith in the goodwill of humanity towards him? How could he say sorry for the shattered illusions of all that could have been?

“She wouldn’t react the same way,” he tried, knowing there was nothing he could say about himself to make it better but believe he could at least try to convince Valjean not to paint Cosette with the same brush as him.

“I can’t risk it. I prefer never to see her again, knowing she still believe me a good man, than see the disgust in her eyes. I couldn’t stand it,” Valjean said in a voice that cut short any possible discussion. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It is the choice I made and I know her life can only be better for it.”

Javert didn’t persevere, knowing that nothing he could say would be able to change his mind, not when it concerned a wound that had been left festering for ten years. He was way too late for that and now both Cosette and Valjean would suffer because of him. It didn’t matter how much he would try to make up for it in the future, there was absolutely nothing that would repair the damages he had caused while doing ‘his duty’ for so long, without showing any mercy.

He let Valjean change the subject but the discussion stayed with him hours after he left the Rue de l’Homme Armé.

* * *

He had to do something. He had to act to make the situation between father and daughter right again. Valjean had gone above and beyond for him, had saved his life twice in one day, had given him back the will to live, so to speak and had even welcomed him back in his life, as if he had never done him any wrong. Yes, Valjean forgiven him, telling him he had done only his duty, but he knew it was not an excuse that could hold. He had a debt to repay and that was the reason he found himself in front of the door, at Les filles du Calvaires, waiting for something to open the door.

“Monsieur l’Inspecteur?” the servant, Basque, asked as he answered, eying him warily.

“I have come to speak with Monsieur Pontmercy and Mademoiselle Fauchelevent. It is an important matter that concerns the Lady’s father. However,” he added as he saw the man’s eyes widen. “Do not alarm them unduly, nothing has happened to him.”

“Of course, Monsieur, please follow me.”

Javert was showed in the antechamber, waiting for his two interlocutors to arrive. They did minutely, Cosette apparently having almost run at hearing there would be news concerning her beloved Papa she had been so worried about. Marius’ reaction, on the other hand, was completely different. His face blanched and, for a moment, Javert thought he was going to pass out. Was he so worried about Cosette finding out the truth that he feared he had come to tell them of his arrest?

“Inspecteur Javert!” both of them exclaimed at the same time, Cosette with surprised delight, knowing that that if anyone had news of her father it would be him, Marius in complete bewilderment.

“How have you come to be alive?” he continued and Cosette turned to him with stunned eyes, not understanding what he was staying.

Javert was also surprised, for a completely different reason. Of course, he understood the reference, Marius having been there when Valjean had taken him into the alley behind the Café Mussain to shoot him but he would have thought Valjean would have had the good sense of telling the boy he was not, in actuality, a murdered. Apparently, he was wrong.

He merely raised an eyebrow.

“I had thought that…,” Maris continued but he simply trailed off, not wanting to end the sentence in front Cosette.

“You had thought that Monsieur Fauchelevent had killed me at the barricade,” he finished for him, wanting to get the situation going and he heard the outraged gasp coming from Cosette.

While, in his opinion, the Pontmercy boy would deserve a bit of heat coming from his intended, he knew Valjean would hardly thank him for putting a wedge between them.

“Do no judge the boy too harshly, Mademoiselle. Your father pretended to kill me in order to free me from the rebels and your Marius was there for the performance. Having been injured soon after, he doesn’t remember seeing me again that night and if you father hasn’t said anything about what happened, he had no way of knowing it wasn’t so.”

Cosette was a little bit mollified but hardly happy.

“Still, believing my beloved Papa to be a murderer,” she said, unhappily, frowning at Marius who had the good grace to flinch and Javert almost smirked, almost.

“Your father has told Marius some things that, unfortunately, doesn’t paint him in a very good light,” Javert continued and he lifted his hand to stop Marius from intervening, a glare in his direction from both him and Cosette silenced him before he had time to do so thought. “Mademoiselle, I am going against your father’s wishes right now, as he wishes for you to never know of his past for fear of how you would react.”

“But, there is nothing he could say to me that would change the way I see him!” Cosette exclaimed and both her interlocutors frowned, for different reasons.

“Please, Mademoiselle-”

“Cosette, Inspecteur! I’ve already told you to call me Cosette. You are my Papa’s dear friend.”

Marius’ jaw dropped at that, not understanding how it could be considering what her father was.

“Cosette, please, let me explain everything,” Javert pleaded. “Your husband-to-be already knows some of it but I have a feeling your father has failed to tell him some very important parts that would change everything.”

They all sat down and listened attentively as Javert began to talk and tell them everything from the initial crime that had landed Valjean in prison, to how his various escape attempts had resulted in a longer sentence yet, from how when he was released he hated the world and had attempted another robbery but that the Bishop had made him a new man that day by showing him mercy, to how he had become Madeleine and had made a new life for himself, become the mayor and a saint, from how he had denounced himself to save an innocent and to how he had then flown to Montfermeil, once Cosette’s mother had died, to keep his promise to her and become her Papa. He had to admit he knew very little of the years between their disappearance around the area of Petit-Picpus, to which Cosette had a little giggle that she simply waved around, and the moment they had seen each other again at the barricade. He had continued with how Valjean could have let him die right there but had chosen instead to save him and then came across him and begged him to help save Marius.

“What?” both of them exclaimed at the same time, not having known that part and Javert made an exasperated sound.

“I suppose Monsieur Fauchelevent also failed to mention that he was the one to carry you through the sewers from the barricade to your grandfather’s house,” he said to Marius who simply nodded numbly.

“That man is a saint!” Marius exclaimed. “How could I have even thought him a bad man, I don’t know. Oh! Why didn’t he tell me everything instead of letting me believe the worse of him? He lets me be believe he had killed you and robbed Madeleine.”

That surprised Javert a lot less than he would have thought.

“I believe he wanted you to force him out of Cosette’s life,” Javert said. “A decision he wouldn’t have had the strength to make on his own.”

“But why would he want to get away from me?” Cosette asked, tears in her eyes.

“He knew that if he stayed, the truth would have come out at one point or another, he couldn’t have kept it from you forever.”

“But why wouldn’t he trust me?”

The tears that had been threatening to fall for a while marred now her cheeks and Javert swallowed with difficulty. He had told them all of Valjean’s secrets. It was now time for his own confessions. It wasn’t easy but he had always thought that admitting his wrongs was important.

“That would be my fault,” he said eventually, looking at some point over her left shoulder, unable to look straight in her eyes.

“How could it be your fault?” Cosette asked, bewildered, with a frown.

She couldn’t understand. He had obviously not told her father she couldn’t be trusted because if he really believed that, he wouldn’t be there, right now, telling her himself. No, he knew she wouldn’t react wrong so why on earth would it be his fault?

“Your father and I were…close in Montreuil-sur-Mer,” he began carefully. “I’m afraid my reaction when he told me the truth was terrible. The things I accused him of… it is something I can never dream to atone for, something your father has never been able to forget.”

He stopped, unable to go on, to get into more details about the accusations he had hurled at Valjean that day, accusations so far from the truth he couldn’t believe they had once crossed his lips. He lowered his eyes, waiting for the reaction he was sure to come.

To his utmost surprise, there were no harsh words, no recriminations, but a soft hand found his chin and forced him to look back at Cosette once more. Her eyes held no accusation and the tears had somehow dried up on her cheeks as she smiled kindly at him.

“It was a very long time ago, Inspecteur,” she said softy. “And my father has forgiven you from what I saw, if he has ever held you responsible. He considers you his closest friend.”

Javert made an effort to smile to the soft-spoken reassurance. However, it would never be enough to assuage his guilt, especially considering the fact Valjean had been about to forever leave his daughter behind because of what he had done. He knew that Valjean wouldn’t have lasted long, would have died of a broken heart and no one would have been able to stop it.

“Yes, I am his friend,” Javert repeated and it should have been a happy statement but it was bittersweet.

After Montreuil, Javert had done everything in his power to forget the nascent feelings which had blossomed in him towards Madeleine. He had mostly succeeded by not thinking about him more than what was needed to do his duty. However, since he had begun spending time with Valjean once again, he had to admit they had never really gone away and had now come back with a vengeance. Friendship was more than he could ever have hoped for but less than he would have wished for.

Something akin to understanding passed through Marius’ eyes, something fleeting and he wasn’t sure he was right, but as Cosette didn’t seem to see anything wrong, he let it go for now and resolved himself to tell her afterwards. Maybe, there would be something he could do to make up for his horrible behavior towards the man he was soon to call Father.

“Now,” Javert started again, not wanting to hear more platitudes. “Your father is still living at Rue de l’Homme Armé. I am sure it would do him nothing but good to see you and to see that, even knowing the truth, you still love him.”

“Of course!” Cosette exclaimed, apparently ready to go straight there, not even taking the time to change. “Thank you so much Inspecteur!”

He was taken aback by the spontaneous embrace he found himself in and was unable to even reciprocate before she released him.

“You are coming with us, Inspecteur Javert?” Marius asked, thinking it would be a good idea but the man shook his head.

“As I said, I came here against Monsieur Fauchelevent’s wished. I do not think I my presence would be welcomed.”

That was something he had thought about before coming but it had seemed more important to engineer a reconciliation between the two family members than to worry about his place in the man’s life. It was hard, of course, to think about it but it was nothing more than he deserved, was nothing more than what should have been anyway if Valjean was not so forgiving even to those who didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sure Papa will not be mad at you,” Cosette insisted. “Once he sees you have done it for his own good, he will be thankful.”

“I am sure,” Javert lied, not wanting to argue this point with the young woman he knew to be as stubborn as her own father. “However, this is a time for the three of you. My presence would be a hindrance for your reunion. Please, go without me. Now, it is time for me to go, Mademoiselle, Monsieur.”

With that, he took his leave of them, rather abruptly, but having done what he had come there to accomplish. Now, it would be up to the two youngsters to make things right and he knew for a fact that they would probably badger Valjean until he finally accepted that he deserved their love and devotion. It would be everything Valjean had earned. Life would finally be fair to him. It was high time.

* * *

Javert had not gone back to Rue de l’Homme Armé after talking to Cosette and Marius, the day before. He knew he wouldn’t be welcome there, not after the way he had acted, going behind Valjean’s back, knowing he was doing something that the man would never agree to. He had resigned himself to having lost the only person he had ever called a friend and, while it hurt, he knew it was nothing more than he merited.

From the moment Valjean had told him the reason he refused to tell Cosette, he had known that he would have to pay the price, one way or another and it was only fitting he would be the one to devise his own punishment. Yes, it was best this way. Valjean would go on with his life, surrounded with his family and Javert would be alone, which meant he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else the way he had Valjean.

He was startled out of his somber ruminations by a knock at his door. He frowned, incapable of thinking of a single person that would come and see him at his own lodgings, except maybe his colleagues if there was an emergency. Damn!

He got up quickly and went straight to the door, ready to leave at a moment notice if something was wrong. He stopped dead in his track when he opened the door and saw Valjean standing there. Well, he had thought the man would simply avoid him but he owed it to Valjean to hear his recriminations. He had never in his life pulled his punch and there was no reason for anyone to do anything else with him. He let him in without a word and squared himself. Knowing Valjean it would be words and not actual violence but he would face it head on.

“I will not apologize,” he told him, trying very hard to keep looking at him in the eyes but unable to see any hint of the man’s thoughts or feelings in them. “I would do it all over again if I had to, even if I know you are angry with me.”

That was the truth and he would not say anything else. The reaction, however, was not one of outrage as he was expecting but he found himself, once again, engulfed by an embrace he hadn’t see coming. Unlike Cosette who had basically flung herself at him, Valjean pulled him to him and put his arms around him until he was flush against his chest.

Javert tensed, taken by surprise once again. Unlike his daughter, though, Valjean didn’t relinquish the grip but kept holding him until he his brain finally accepted there would be no violence against him and he brought his arms up, carefully, to put them around the large back, trembling, not sure whether he would be rejected or not. When the rejection didn’t come but he felt Valjean put one of his hand on the back on his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on his shoulder, he went willingly and simply melted against the man. That wasn’t right, he couldn’t be forgiven just like that.

“Thank you,” he heard Valjean murmur against his hair and he took a shuddering breath, half a sob really, and, unable to speak, just shook his head, wanting Valjean to understand he shouldn’t be thanking him, not for that. “Yes, Javert. Thank you, you have no idea how much it means to me. So I will say it until you can accept it.”

For a few moments, neither spoke nor moved and then Valjean retreated a little bit, keeping both his hands on Javert’s shoulders and looking at him straight in the eyes. Javert knew he must have looked a sight, with probably red-rimmed eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Cosette tells me I’m too hard on myself. That I deserve to have good things in life, that I deserve the love of people around me. I’m hard pressed to believe it but she and Marius seem so convinced of it. Do you agree with them?”

Javert nodded, not understanding what Valjean was getting at but willing however to state it as a truth as he knew in his heart that it was right and he would have done anything in his power to convince him of it. If his daughter and the boy had managed to get through him, he was glad for it and would certainly not destroy their efforts.

“Good,” Valjean said, with a smile and then he let one hand slid from his grip on his shoulder, trailing towards his face and coming up to cup his chin, caressing his cheek in the process.

Javert couldn’t move, could hardly swallow, petrified because it couldn’t happen, not now, not after everything they had been through since the last time events could have gone this way.

It did happen though and Valjean’s lips brushed against his with all the tenderness in the world and he was lost, knowing his actions had been forgiven, and that what he wanted was now within reach. This time, he wouldn’t lose it.


End file.
